


A Tale of Monsters and Men

by The_Wise_Fool



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV), Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25326472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Wise_Fool/pseuds/The_Wise_Fool
Summary: What’s West of WesterosAnd North of The NorthWhere Fire never ReignsAnd Ice never DawnsWhat’s South of Man’s BordersAnd East of His WarsWhere Monsters are MadeAnd Magic is BornWhere a Girl is not a GirlAnd a Man is not a ManWhere a Brother is no BrotherAnd the End is not The EndWhere a King is not a KingdomAnd a Bard is not a PrinceWhere a Man is not a GodAnd a God is not a Myth
Comments: 9
Kudos: 24





	1. 1.1 Prelude

Deep in the bowels of Brockton Bay, a girl with bones too big and eyes too dull wonders. She wonders if the day is as cold and bitter as the collar around her neck. She wonders if the wails in the distance are the sirens or her screams. The blurry figure who’d stood before her moments ago is gone, but his parting gift, triggered shocks of collared pain, still trickle down her spine. It hurts. It lingers. It makes her blood _sing_ ; a beautiful symphony to the short staccatos that merely clip the ear.

 **Endbringer** , they say. 

_Leviathan_ , she hears. 

She wonders if she will die here, trapped in a cell, with nothing to hold onto except a name she’s already half forgotten. She wonders if she will die here, choking on despair as all semblance of hope withers, when the sky begins to fall.

She wonders if she will care.

Her name is Taylor Hebert…

…and she is breaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, its ya boy the Wizard Foolio aka the Wise Fool aka that weirdo you never knew lol
> 
> Not gonna lie, this is the first story I'm posting so I guess that means I just popped my postin cherry... woowoo to me I guess...? *shrugs*  
> anyway, if you like what I've posted so far Grrrrreat!  
> If you don't like what I've posted so far Congrats! you read it anyways  
> If you don't have any opinion whatsoever, that's okay too. I post these purely cause I enjoy what I write and the worlds that are created from it, and if someone else ends up enjoying it too then I'd be a fool not to share the love eh? well... I'm still a fool, so maybe not a wise fool. With all that out the way tho, I've got nothing else to say, so I guess this is it till next time my friends. adios!


	2. 1.2 The Doctor

The Doctor was a great many things. She was shrewd, shrewd enough to know that her associates thought her rather unpleasant. She was ruthless, with a brutal efficiency that wouldn’t look at all out of place in a morgue, ~~or a murder~~. And she was bitter; a bitter that only a cold-hearted madam, one who spent days in a lab to prevent an outcome most would scarcely believe, could be. As a result, she wasn’t a particularly nice person. In fact, some would go so far as to say that she was downright _villainous_. Most who did, however, did not last for very long.

Perhaps that was why it came as no surprise to find her buried halfway within a dissected corpse staring at her latest ~~experiment~~ patient with an unsettling intensity that bordered on ~~unhinged~~ unnerving. Of course to call the corpse a corpse it’d have to be dead, and while it teetered on the edge of being very much so, it wasn’t quite there yet. So for now we must continue to call the soon-to-be-corpse that is not-yet-a-corpse what it is. A boy. A very severed and disfigured boy, but a boy all the same.

He was young, with a gentle angle gracing his cheeks that emphasized his body’s lingering grasp on childhood, but if one were to put him back together and stand him up again he would be quite a tall and gangly lad. His eyes, a glazed green, watched every snip of his flesh and snap of his bones with an unflinching determination that shone with a naive sort of bravery. But for all that it was brave, it was also incredibly foolish, for such a gaze eventually drew the interest of the Doctor. And a curious doctor is never a good thing, especially if that doctor was Doctor Mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun... DUN...DUUUNNNNN


	3. 1.3 The Boy

“They say bravery is not the absence of fear,” Doctor Mother said, “but the ability to push on in spite of it.” She spoke slowly, methodically, each thought considered and voiced with a calculated disregard. “In truth,” she continued, “bravery is simply stupidity at its finest.” Her words, devoid of any warmth, cut like the sharpest of scalpels. He should know. He could feel them.

Snip. Snip.. There went his liver.

“Because in the end,”

Crack. POP. There goes a rib.

“…a brave man will die for his beliefs.”

_Squelch._ He wasn’t really sure what that one was. A lung maybe? Probably.

“But a smart man,”

Ooh, the evil doctor lady was still speaking. Should he listen?

Yes.

No.

_...no?_

**Yes** …he should.

After all, it was only good manners to listen to the person who held his heart in their hands… literally.

“… a smart man will **LIVE**.”

He stared at her, heart writhing sluggishly in her grasp. He could hear the life draining out of him, a steady drip drip drip onto the linoleum floors.

Huh.. so this was what dying felt like.


	4. The Question

Doctor Mother pondered the boy that had yet to look away from her, even if by unconsciousness. It wasn’t often that she was met with someone so intriguing. She’d had many patients before him, of course. Some that fought, or cried, or screamed - though most never gained her interest before they too eventually died.

But _this one_?

This one seemed to be shattering all of her expectations, and he seemed to be doing it out of sheer, determined spite. Normally she’d dissuade such beliefs, but the sliver of respect she felt for his utter tenacity gave her pause. She knew the boy was dying. Slowly, defiantly, but dying all the same. The blood that continued to keep his heart pumping was steadily filling his punctured lung. Eventually, if his heart didn't give out first, he’d drown; but with his apparent stubbornness Doctor Mother knew he would either die trying to live, or live only to die. The circumstances, strange as they were, filled her with a small sense of curiosity, and, despite her lingering reluctance, she decided to give the boy a test.

Placing his beating heart on the tray beside the equipment keeping him alive (if only just), she wiped her hands clean beneath his wide-eyed stare and pondered how to proceed. Flickers of static silence buzzed in the air, the edges of her senses ringing with a thought that she couldn’t consciously grasp, but the wet gurgling of the boy drew her attention, and the discomfort on his face prompted her to speak.

“I’m going to offer you a chance” she said. “A chance for you to possibly get out of this somewhat alive. Whether you live or die will be entirely up to you. All you must do is answer one single question. So listen close, for I will only say this once.” She paused, and only once she was certain that she had his full and undivided attention did she continue. “Riddle me this,” she starts,

“A monster comes from a place scarcely known

Where some are big, some are small, some are made, and some are grown

Few are good, Most are bad, Many slow, and just as fast

But even monsters have a monster that’s more monstrous than the last

A fiend so strong it can never be fought

A hero in action but a villain in thoughts

With the knowledge that it Knows it can never be beat

Tell me…

_How do you kill an unkillable beast?”_


End file.
